This post was written on Wednesday, November 11.
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I woke up this morning knowing I was going to make it to the villages. I had slept soundly through the night, despite sleeping most of yesterday. After careful calculations I realized I had slept 21 of the last 24 hours. My body put up a good fight and won, Iām so thankful.
This morning we were off to Tomas and Binyamās village first. We spent the morning talking and playing soccer with his special people. Though the crowd of 200 people wasnāt there to greet us today, we had a truly beautiful time in the hut with our special people. True to our experience in Ethiopia, there was a steady stream of community members who came and sat at the doorway of the hut just to watch the ferengi (foreigners) talk with their fellow villagers. Binyam and Dailah remained fixated on the tiny chickens. Binyam, I think, because staring back at the dozens of eyes staring at him was just a little too much for my introvert. Dailah because they were simply too cute (one of T & Bās people told Dailah she should name the chicks. She named one āCutie Patootieā and they all really loved that. )

I loved that the special people didnāt just ask Tomas and Binyam questions but also Tariku, Dailah and Trysten. It was clear they saw no difference between the siblings and loved them because of their relation to T & B as well. Itās rarely like that in America where one of the first questions we get asked is, āBut are they brothers?ā about our Ethiopians, as if the fact that I called them all my kids wasnāt enough proof that they are brothers. The Ethiopians never asked if Trysten and Dailah were our biological children or how/why our family came to be. They just started calling Trysten, Dailah and Tariku āsonā and ādaughterā as well. What a beautiful thing that is.

We were served roasted beans (delicious), crackers and soda. Despite my churning belly I was struck by how relaxed I was. Obviously no one in the tent save for our family, our translator and our driver spoke English but it never felt uncomfortable. It just felt really, really good to surround our boys with so many who love and pray for them every day-Ethiopian and American alike-and sometimes just sit and marvel at the miracles they truly are.

We got to hear funny stories of Tomas and Binyam when they were younger. Both sides of the family (Ethiopian and American) loved to hear that, though so much has changed, in many ways the boys remain remarkably similar to how they were when they lived there. We have told similar stories they told with just a few different cultural variables. Some of the stuff I had worried might be adoption related with both of them turned out to be something theyāve done from the beginning. It felt so reassuring to hear details on those personality traits and think to myself, āOh my, theyāve been doing that since they were babies, everything is going to be ok.ā Very rarely with international adoption do you get to fill in holes of the adopted childās story so I genuinely canāt tell you what it meant to do that in so many ways for Tomas-adopted at age 6 and Binaym-adopted at age 3.

After many photos and prayers, we were off to Tarikuās special people for the afternoon.
We found out that one of Tarikuās special people had essentially told the village they werenāt allowed to hang around their hut the two days we were there. This special person didnāt want a spectacle made of the return of a beloved. It is perhaps why it felt so much like spending time with family while we were in their village.
They set up a soccer game, Tarikuās special person chose teams this time and definitely stacked one of the teams with all of Tarikuās people. Normally I would question the fairness as Tarikuās gift of excelling in sports ran rampant through his team, but it was clearly making his special person so happy so I just sat back and enjoyed the show.

Zach and I sat on chairs with other special people to watch. Our translator walked around so it wasnāt as if we were holding conversations but there was something so universally joyful about those moments. To be watching the two worlds collide in such an ordinary way. No fanfare, no staring. It felt like a regular Wednesday in so many ways. I have to admit it was maybe my favorite time of the whole trip.
Iāve been asked if it was weird to not be able to communicate. Of course there were times when the translator was maybe in one area and we were in another that I wouldāve normally started small talk with the people around me. But without the small talk, when we were able to communicate via translator our words had more purpose and more weight.
I realized that in America itās so easy to āknowā people. Maybe we small talk on a pretty regular basis, perhaps we comment on all the social media the other posts. We share the same language and perhaps we talk all the time but we donāt know each other. One of the truest gifts we received in Ethiopia was our ability to get to know our special people. When you donāt speak the same language thereās no fluff-our conversations were about the hopes, dreams and fears the other has. The stories told werenāt just silly anecdotes they were glimpses into a larger narrative about who my boys were then and how theyāve affected who they are now.

We had some funny moments too to be sure because there was an awareness of the weirdness of the whole situation.
Thereās no doubt God never intended Tariku to be with us and not with them, adoption was never part of the original plan. I think we were all aware of that in a rather profound way. But somehow we found ourselves huddled over a large plate of injera and shiro celebrating the messy, traumatic, complicated way in which we had become a family bound together by the absolute love we share for Tariku. If Tarikuās special person wouldāve allowed village members in I have no doubt they wouldāve recognized the common language of love in our adoring eyes and directed smiles whenever Ethiopian or American looked Tarikuās way.

I was asked recently if it was awkward to be aroundĀ Tomas, Tariku and Binyamās special people knowing in some ways we share the same roles in their lives. In all honesty, I feel so grateful to have partners in this monumental task of raising our sons. An open international adoption is weird and inaccessible at times but when Iām feeling dark or hopeless about my abilities to raise my boys right Iām reminded of who is alongside me and I get a tremendous amount of strength from that. I feel more reassuredĀ that the boys will be okay knowing Iām not alone in raising them.

When Zach was speaking to Tarikuās special people he said, āI just hope that I make you proud as his father with how Iām raising Tariku to love you and to love Ethiopia. I think of you often when Iām with him and just want to do right by you. Thank you for the opportunity to help raise our son.ā
I thought it perfectly summed up our time spent with all of the special people. It was our way of thanking them for the gift it is to help raise our sons and to celebrate the gift in a beautiful multi-cultural, multi-lingual way.